


Sweet Dreams

by mangacrack



Series: Season of Kink (2017) [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Altered Mental States, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dream Sex, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 16:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11188875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangacrack/pseuds/mangacrack
Summary: Dreams define Reality. (In Eärendil's case, blame the Silmaril.)





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Seasons of Kink. Kink from my Bingo was "Somnophilia".

Empty, lonely nights weren't unusual on the Vingilot. Day or night barely existed up here and Eärendil often slept, whenever he felt like it. The view was wonderful, up here among the stars and with the world below, but there wasn't much to do either. Sometimes it seemed to Eärendil that his journey up here was merely a dream. One day he'd wake up in his bed and mother would call him down for breakfast, which would be served in a green garden. Colourful birds would be singing in the trees while the sun shone down. Mother would be chattering in the background and father would laugh.

But was it real? Eärendil wondered. Could it be real?

"Keep dreaming," a voice told him and pressed him back onto the bed. 

Eärendil's eyes fluttered shut and he began to drift again. He didn't question that the voice was male. Currently he didn't have any female sailors in his crew. A hand ran over his naked shoulder, brushing his tunic off and Eärendil sighed happily. He didn't want to move, but that was no reason to not to enjoy being taken care off. Sex was one of the few ways to pass the time up here and he enjoyed the company. 

It was a reminder that he wasn't entirely alone up here. Though none of the crew members stayed for long. They came with him for a year or two, but they left sooner or later. 

They had a life, back down on Arda. 

Fingers teased his naked backside, kneaded his ass when his pants where pulled down and soon they slipped between the cleft. Eärendil was too out of it, to do more than moan softly. But it felt good as they slid deeper, worked him open. It went on like this for a while, though Eärendil couldn't say for how long exactly. The fingers plunged deep, scissored and hit his sweet spot. Teased him until it almost got too much, only to leave him alone for while until Eärendil whined. 

"How do you want it," he was asked. By now Eärendil felt boneless and content, lying bare on top of his sheets in his bunk. 

"Don't care," Eärendil mumbled. A rather large head of a cock was rubbed over his entrance, giving him a taste for what was about to follow. "Just let me stay like this."

"It's going to feel good," the elf behind him promised and Eärendil had no reason not to believe him.

Since he had been opened up for at least an hour, the mariner only gasped a little, when the hard shaft breached him. For the first time his own body responded, filling him up nicely. But he kept his face buried into the pillow. The image of sunlight and the beautiful garden was still so close, Eärendil could almost smell the fresh grass and when the elf above him starts moving he can almost feel beneath his fingers. 

It tickled, brushed against his hard cock like teasing fingers as every snap shoved him back and forth. Eärendil whimpered. He had closed his eyes to hold on to his dream, with the effect that he also had to concentrate on the possessive grip of his hips. Hands pulled his ass up into the air, feeding of the desperate need Eärendil's to manhandled. The harder he got fucked, the deeper his lover plunged, the clearer became Eärendil's fantasy. 

It didn't take long for him to properly fall asleep. 

When he woke up, his sheets were sticky. That's the only evidence that something happened while he dreamed. Eärendil blinked. He couldn't tell what truly happened. Didn't his mother tell to be back in a few days, because of a great feast held in Tirion? Non of his crew members act as if they just spend a night with him. No second glance, no secret smile. Just quiet work and the usual humming under their breaths. 

Eärendil wondered what parts he dreamed and what parts of last night were real. 

In the end he just shrugged and takes the Silmaril from the nightstand. It felt warm, like the hands that held him last night after he came, crying out a name he doesn't remember anymore. 

Before leaving the cabin, the jewel lit up the room one more time. For a moment a figure could be made out near the bed. Patient, waiting and smiling. It felt familiar, like a daily ritual. Then Eärendil shook his head and the other Elf was gone. It was a dream, nothing more. On board the Vingilot he had to alert and careful. It was too easy to stir into dangerous territories otherwise. Reality was thin up here. 

The light of the stars was Varda's power. They were ever beautiful and distracting. 

"Sweet dreams, Eärendil," Fëanor whispered after Eärendil left and the door falls shut. "I'll be waiting." 

Like always.

**Author's Note:**

> Blame the Silmaril. When in doubt, blame the Silmaril.


End file.
